


Toxicity in the Family

by Inquisitorkira



Series: Cookies and Crumbs [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Established Relationship, F/F, Fatal Injury, Gore, Language, Lots of Angst, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 22:18:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3626319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inquisitorkira/pseuds/Inquisitorkira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lymrik Cadash is surprised to hear that a surviving family member is in Orzammar, looking for her. Much to Sera's disdain, she goes off looking for trouble and finds it. Lots of Angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toxicity in the Family

Toxicity in the Family  
It was an uneventful afternoon in Skyhold, something that was becoming increasingly rare as Corephyus’ strength grew to match the inquisitions. So Lymrik took the time to enjoy them, those uneventful afternoons. Today she was sprawled out on the floor, various parts and mechanisms strewn across her quarters. Varric and Three-eyes had offered to help her with her trap making. She enjoyed making traps; it gave her something to do with her hands when she wasn’t fighting or, erm, baking cookies with Sera. But damn if those pieces never fit together right. She scowled at what was supposed to be the trigger on a bomb and tossed it aside in frustration.  
“Andraste’s knickers, I’m never going to get this bloody thing together!”  
Varric looked over the book he was proof reading from the inquisitor’s desk with a raised eyebrow. “Careful there, Carta, some of those pieces are the explode-y bits.”  
“Oh sod off Varric.” The other dwarf rolled her eyes, but smiled up at him. Three-eyes had buggered off somewhere a while ago, and Varric had opted to get out of Lymirk’s way as she worked and swore. But mostly swore. She wasn’t exactly the best student. She was stubborn and volatile, and would likely lash out at anyone within striking distance if- when- she couldn’t get something right. At some point, Varric had deemed her unteachable and said she’d be better off working through it herself. Lymrik surmised that it was for his own safety he had his feet propped up on her desk, that smug grin on his face. “You know if you really wanted to make sure I didn’t blow myself to smithereens, you’d get off your lazy arse and help me.”  
Varric brought his attention back to the pages before him, waving the quill with the ink still fresh on it pointedly through the air. “Oh but what would that teach you if I did all the work?” Lymrik rolled her eyes again at his boisterousness and with a grin, lobbed a particularly large bolt at his head. He evaded it easily, ducking just before it caught him in the eye. “hey! There’s no need for that, don’t want to damage this exquisite piece of fine workmanship…”  
“Are you referring to the desk or yourself?” Before he could answer, someone in the doorway cleared their throat. Lymrik rolled around. “Lady Josephine!” She popped up onto her feet, heat rising in her cheeks, though she couldn’t think of why she was embarrassed. Varric on the other hand was booming with laughter. Lymrik sincerely hoped he would fall out of the chair. “I didn’t hear you enter.”  
Josephine chuckled softly, bringing a hand to her mouth. Clearly, she was unfazed by the dwarves’ antics. “No need to apologize, Inquisitor Cadash, I am glad to see you are enjoying the afternoon off.”

“Yes well, I was trying to be productive,” She shot Varric an angry glare, “anyway, did you need something?”  
“Yes. I received word from Orzammar about an, ah, personal affair.”  
Lymrik raised an eyebrow. “What personal affair?”  
The usually eloquent ambassador twiddled her fingers together nervously, seemingly searching for the right words. “Perhaps we should speak about this in private?”  
She didn’t like the sound of that. She had no bloody idea what this could be about but nevertheless, it made knots form in her stomach. She feigned a smile. “Sure, Josie.” She beckoned the human to follow her into the stairwell outside her quarters, and closed the door behind them. “Now what is this about?”  
Josephine looked down at her feet. “It is good news.” Lymrik tucked her hands behind her back and waited. “One of Leliana’s people took a message from a contact in the Carta. Someone is trying to find you, a dwarven woman named Bertha.”  
That didn’t seem like news, good or bad. People were always asking for her help. “Alright, and what does this Bertha want from me?”  
Josephine cleared her throat. “She claims to be a relative of yours- your aunt, actually. She has requested to meet with you in person.”  
Lymriks mouth went dry. The words repeated in her head in slow motion. Your aunt. But that was impossible. The only family she had had in Orzammar were her parents and they died years ago…  
“Are…are you sure?” Her voice was nothing more than a stuttered whisper.  
“I beg your pardon?”  
“That she’s my aunt, I mean, how could you possibly know that?”  
There must have been bite in her words because Josephine flinched. “Of course we cannot know for certain if these claims are true, but she did seal the letter with the Cadash family crest.”  
Lymrik rubbed her furrowed brow pensively. She didn’t know if her father had a sister. For the first time in years she tried to remember her childhood, memories she had forced into the recesses of her mind. Suddenly she was nine again, clutching her father’s hand as they walked the busy streets of the underground city. He was saying something in passing, laughing about how she reminded him of his sister.  
Was this real, or something she had fabricated to humor her desperate mind? She wanted to believe there was someone waiting for her when all this was over, but at the same time, she didn’t want it to be true- because that would mean so much, and it would mean nothing good at all.  
“My lady, are you alright?”  
She looked up to see Josephine peering down at her with concern, a soft hand on her shoulder.  
“Yes I- Tell master Dennett to ready my mount.”  
The words shocked her as much as they seemed to shock her adviser. “My lady?”  
“I need to follow up this lead.” She made a conscious effort to straighten herself out, force a smile. “I’m sure Corephyus can wait a while longer.”  
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Sera was shooting arrows into a makeshift target she had hung up from the rafters in her room in the tavern. Not to practice, not really, cus she didn’t ever need practice but just for something to, well, fill with arrows. Everything was better with arrows. Or bees. She smiled at that, readying another round in her bow. And then she heard a distinctive screech- like a thing being skinned alive or something. That was Lymirk’s horse –elk, halla thing?- It had to be. Curious, she dropped her bow and quiver and crawled to the window. Sure enough, there was her Tadwinks, all set to go on some adventure without telling her.  
Well that was friggin nug shite.  
She darted out the window, sliding down the roof, and landed feet first on the ground then took off in a sprint. “Oi, Inky!” The dwarf didn’t see her bounding towards her at first, but when she did she looked- what, scared? Sorry? Well Sera didn’t care. She was pissed. Royally and utterly pissed. She got right up in her face- she could reach for once cus she was on that horrid hart- and started shouting. “Andraste’s bleeding arse, what the hell you doing going off without me! What’s so bloody important, you gonna leave without sayin goodbye or nothing? Thought we were gonna bake some cookies later, yeah, but what’s this? It’s a load of horse shite, is what it is! You’re an ass, I-“ Sera didn’t stop her when Lymrik reached forward, cupped her face, and pulled her in for a kiss. It wasn’t an angry kiss or even an ‘im sorry’ kiss it was just, well it was just a kiss. Soft and worth something. Immediately Sera felt guilty for yelling. There was obviously something bothering her lover and she hadn’t even bothered to ask- she was the ass.  
“I’ll be back soon. And I promise we can bake cookies then, okay?” Her voice was broken, and all Sera could do in response was nod. Lymrik smiled- a sad sort of thing- and kissed her once on the forehead, and then she was gone. Sera sauntered back into the tavern, feeling like a rotten sack of potatoes. She didn’t even yell at Maryden when she started playing that blighted song. She closed the door to her room, something she rarely ever did, and curled up on the cushion. She looked out the window. The sky was more grey than green. Sera squeezed her eyes shut and said inside her a- well, a something. Maybe it was prayer, maybe it was just words. But if Andraste really existed and had some sort of favor over her dwarf, maybe she would keep her safe.  
__________________________________________________________________________________  
Lymrik had asked Varric to come with her, but he wasn’t allowed within three feet of Orzammar. So that left the rest of her inner circle to choose from to accompany her, with the exception of Sera. Her heart tightened in her chest. She had hated not telling the archer what was happening. She loved Sera, though she hadn’t told her as much yet, and all she wanted was to protect her. She knew she would have insisted on coming along. This could be a trap. Lymrik still had enemies in the Carta, crafty enemies. She wouldn’t put it past them to fabricate something like this. So she thought it best to leave her lover behind and bring along some of the others, in case there was any sort of trouble. She brought Solas along, hoping the dwarves wouldn’t stare too long at his pointed ears, and Cole as well because they wouldn’t notice him much at all. The journey took a little over a week, and when they finally reached Orzammar, she wished she had never left the safety of Skyhold.  
It was just as she remembered- dark, damp, bustling with life. Stocky bodies laughing and selling things, drinking, being merry, just living their lives. She swallowed hard as they ventured into the city.  
“Are you well, Inquisitor?”  
Solas’s question was a distant echo bouncing inside her head. “I’m fine.”  
“Head spinning, heart hurting- so much noise, just like I remember. But do they remember? Little girl, much too small for a dwarf, even smaller bodies cradled in my arms, the brand on my cheek stings but it does not hurt, not on the outside-“  
“That’s enough, Cole.” It was Solas who had stopped him. Lymrik hadn’t realized the thoughts dancing around her head had been given a voice. She had also forgotten to breathe.  
“Lady Cadash?” A stranger’s voice drew the breath from her. She unconsciously covered the castless tattoo with a thick strand of hair, and motioned for her companions to hang back. Coming closer, she could see it was a women and she stopped walking. She was short even for a dwarf, with long thick red hair, the color of her own. Her eyes were a deep brown- just like her father’s.  
“Bertha?”  
“Maker’s breath, Lymrik!” Without hesitation, the woman leapt forward and snatched the inquisitor into a forceful, but not entirely unpleasant, hug. Lymrik allowed herself to sink into it. Tears were welling in her eyes, and she willed them to stay. When Bertha pulled back, she knew. There was no question, this woman was her aunt. If the hair wasn’t obvious enough, it was in her eyes, her nose, the way she smiled. The familiarity of her father flourished in her features. “My, you have grown so much since I last saw you!”  
“You- You remember me?”  
“Of course I do child.” Her kind smile quickly slid into a frown as she moved the hair from Lymrik’s face and noticed the mark. “Oh Maker… You must have suffered much.”  
Lymrik instinctively pushed her hand away. When she saw the hurt on the other woman’s face she smiled apologetically, “Sorry, bad habit.”  
Bertha sighed deeply. “Come, let us talk away from prying ears.” Lymrik turned to see where her companions had gone. It seemed Cole was watching a wounded nug, and Solas was watching Cole. No one had seemed upset by the elf’s presence, at least not yet, so she figured she was fine to leave them be. Besides, now that she knew Bertha was in fact family, there was no longer the danger of an ambush. She felt foolish for even entertaining the thought. She followed Bertha into an alley behind a black smith, and sat next to her on a low stone bench. “I regret that I was not here for my brother’s death.” She did look deeply sorry. “My husband ran a caravan on the surface. We were selling our goods in Orlais, making a good profit of it too.” She smiled fondly at the ground, brown eyes twinkling as she remembered. Her face changed suddenly as she looked back at Lymrik. “But when I came back, I heard the news. And I didn’t know-“ She touched the tattoo gently, as if caressing a new born. “Maker, if I had known.”  
And the tears came, fast and unrelenting. It had been so long since Lymrik had sobbed so freely, and in front of a stranger! Her mother would have been ashamed. But this was family, and suddenly Lymrik was being held, cradled even, as the tears soaked the hard cloth on Bertha’s shoulder. Lymrik wanted to be angry. Yes she was here now, but she had not been there when Lymrik’s parents died, and there was no one else, forcing her and her twin brothers into castlessness. She was begging on the streets, starving herself to feed the toddlers, and this woman who was supposed to be family was making a fortune selling nugskin to surface dwellers? Where was she when Shamus had died from being pelted with stones, causing her to flee to the surface with Braden? And she had no one to tell her what the surface was like, or how to care for little ones. When Braden had starved and the mage had found her in the woods, desperate to die, where was this Bertha? It was a travesty, all of it! But she hadn’t known. If she had surely she would have taken her in. And if she had known, maybe Lymrik would have never joined the Carta, the thing she despised the most and maybe should would have ran a bakery like her parents, never to become the inquisitor. And maybe she would have never met Sera. But would that matter? What did this speculation accomplish? The same as the tears- nothing at all. Yet she continued to weep, letting her pain absorb into the older woman’s shoulder. She was so warm, so soft. She reminded Lymrik so much of her father. “Maker forgive me,” Bertha whispered, tears toxic in her voice.  
There was a knife in her back. It was hot and cold at the same time, and Lymrik felt herself falling. The warmth of Bertha had gone, and now her aunt was a face floating above her, fixing a dagger into her belt. “Maker forgive me.”  
_**How can something so warm be so cold? Over here Solas!**_  
 **Inquisitor! Hold still, I need to stop the bleeding.**  
 _ **Why is there blood when I feel like ice? Why does it hurt, Andraste, why did she hurt me? Family isn’t supposed to hurt.**_  
 **The wound isn’t deep, but there appears to be poison in her body. I can’t use magic to heal her. Help me get her out of here.**  
 _ **Family is supposed to help, it isn’t supposed to hurt-**_  
 **Cole, you need to get out of her head!**  
 _ **I want to help her.**_  
 **I know. But right now, the best way to help is to get her home.**  
Home. Where ever the hell that was.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________  
She was early! It was supposed to be weeks, but it had only been a few, and from her spot on the roof, Sera could see the horses riding in. This was her chance to apologize for being such an arse. She slid down, landing on her feet again, dashing forward. But she stopped half way there. They were still at the gate, not the stable. And they’re were too many people, all crowded around. Sera’s heart jumped. “Tadwinks?” She called out. There was no answer. She took off again, dread filling in the spaces where the happiness had been snuffed out. “Inky!” There was no one on her mount, just a pack of supplies. The horses were already being led back to the stables, and the crowd was thinning out. She saw elfy and creepy fussing over something, Dorian running up to them with the surgeon trailing behind him. No. Nonononononono- This couldn’t happen, it just couldn’t! She pushed passed Dorian, and he didn’t even make her apologize. She could almost see her, lying on the ground and- oh shite was that blood? Solas saw her, and stood blocking her path. “Let me through elfy, or I swear to whatever I will end you!”  
“Sera, you cannot be here-“  
She shoved him. “Does it look like I give a fuckin’ nug’s ass? Let me see her.”  
He put up a magic barrier so she couldn’t hit him. “That will not be wise.”  
She was seething now, fists clenched, turning her knuckles whiter than the Frostbacks. “At least tell me what the fuck happened to her, alright?”  
Solas sighed, taking much too long to speak. “She was attacked by someone from the Carta.”  
Sera felt her heart was going to break split through her guts. “Attacked how?”  
“She was stabbed in the back with a poison dagger.”  
“You better friggin let me see her-“  
“Sera-“  
He let his barrier relax and she was able to grab him by the collar, pulling him towards her, bearing her teeth. “Listen shit head. I know you’re trying to do a good thing and all because ok, so maybe I’m daft in the head right now and wouldn’t you be to if the love of your life was dying on the ground and you couldn’t even see them because some asshole was standing in your way? But you gotta let me see her.” She breathed, trying to steady her words. “I know poisons. I can help.”  
Something seemed to click inside his big elfy head because finally, when she let go of him, he stepped aside. She moved faster than a wind, shoving past the surgeon to get next to her. When the doctor protested, Solas reassured him. Good, maybe he was finally getting it. Sera prepared herself, tried to think of helping and not that this was the woman she loved- but then she saw her skin.  
She was so pale. It wasn’t right- she was supposed to be darker, like honey and oak. It made Sera’s stomach sick. She wiped sweat and tears from her face, leaned forward and kissed the unconscious woman swiftly on the back of her neck where the hair had been pushed aside. “Don’t worry love,” she whispered gently, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you Okay?” She looked down at the wound, long calloused fingers caressing it gently. It wasn’t deep, and the blood had mostly subsided so that was good. But the poison had corrupted the skin, burning it and curling it inwards. It was wretched to look at and it hurt to see on her lover, but she knew what it was. She reached for her potion belt, trying to remember to breathe and not to cry and also not to feel because if she felt she wouldn’t do it right. Her hands were used to killing, but for Lymrik they would heal. “Don’t worry love,” She repeated it like a mantra. “I’ve got you.”  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Was she dead? She felt like she was floating. Suspended in air or water or maybe both? And it was dark. Andraste’s tits, why was it so dark? Her eyelids flew open. Oh. She had forgotten to open her eyes. Slowly, Lymrik turned her head. She was in her quarters, in skyhold. So not floating, and probably not dead. She could smell something- sweet, but also burnt. She propped herself up on an arm, wincing when pain shot through her back. She took in the smell again. There was no mistaking it, it had to be-  
“Cookie, my lady?” And there was Sera, grinning from ear to ear, holding a plate of cookies she had no doubt baked herself.  
“Don’t mind if I do.” She smiled softly, and grabbed a cookie and bit into it hard. She must have been hungry because it was delicious. Sera laughed her strange bird laugh and propped herself up at the foot of her bed.  
“You look like shite.”  
“Your cookies taste like shit.”  
Sera laughed again, jumped up and suddenly leapt on Lymrik kissing her hard. Lymrik winced pulling away. The rouge looked wounded but the dwarf responded, “Sorry, it hurts.” and Sera just smiled and kissed her again, a bit softer this time.  
“You know you’re not friggin allowed to die, you prick.” There was no anger in her voice, not like last time with the fade.  
“I know- I’m sorry I won’t do it again, promise.” She winked, and Sera rolled her eyes, wiping a crumb from Lymrik’s cheek.  
“So are you gonna tell me what you were doing in Orzammar, or do I have to ask elfy? Cus I really don’t like him, you know.”  
Lymrik wrinkled her nose. She wanted to tell Sera. But not yet. Right now, she just wanted to enjoy this moment. She mustered up the little energy she had, snatched up Sera’s hand, and pressed it to her lips. Sera snorted at the gesture. “Let’s just say, I’m done with family reunions, for a very long time.” That must have been good enough for the elf, because she didn’t ask any more questions. Sera set the cookies down on the desk and settled into the bed next to her. She must have been as tired as Lymrik felt, because she didn’t even kiss her again before falling into a deep sleep. As Lymrik moved a blonde hair from her face she wondered what kind of day Sera had had, and decided that in the morning she would ask her what part she had played in her recovery.  
She also decided that if the inquisition had managed to capture Bertha, she would not be the one to do the judging. Yes, she was a carta assassin who had tried to take her life, but she was family, of that Lymrik was certain. She had seen it in the way her eyes moved. Heard it in the way she spoke to her. And she could not decide the fate of family. But she did not need to worry about that now. She closed her eyes, smiling softly at the sounds of Sera’s heart beating, and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, comments are greatly appreciated!


End file.
